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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621328">Deeply Weird, Small, Small Thing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/camphor/pseuds/camphor'>camphor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingering, I cannot believe this exists, Semi-Public Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:16:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/camphor/pseuds/camphor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Wait!” </p><p>Rose set her slice down and waved her index finger between them. “Back up. Who does Rey want to fuck?” </p><p>Rey plucked her glass off of her night stand and took a hearty swig, then wiped her mouth with the back of her palm. “Ben Solo,” she replied factually. “I’d climb that man like a tree.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>255</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Deeply Weird, Small, Small Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">In hindsight, Rey determined that the third vodka tonic was the culprit. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> It was the day after finals and Rey, certain that she had flunked Physics 112 for the second consecutive time — The first being out of her control, really, being that it was a bloody eight a.m. lecture on a <em>Monday</em>, for Christ’s sake — invited Finn and Rose over to her dorm for an evening of self-pitying, frozen pizza, and alcohol-induced debauchery. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Vodka tonics numbers one and two proved fairly innocuous. She hadn’t done anything irredeemably embarrassing by that point, at any rate, other than a tone-deaf rendition of<em> I Will Always Love You.</em> The third drink, however, was where things got interesting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Oh, <em>God</em>.” Rey groaned and flopped backwards onto the bed. “I really want to fuck him.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rose peered speculatively at her over her slice of pizza. “Fuck who?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Don’t get her started,” Finn warned, pouring himself another drink. “She’ll never shut up—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Oh, come off it,” Rey spat. “Need I remind you about that guy in our economics class? Spring semester of last year?” Rey sat up and twisted to face him, tapping her index finger against her chin. “Hm… what was his name?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Finn coughed, dribbling a stream of vodka down his collar. “I did not have a crush on—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Poe Dameron!” Rey said, snapping her fingers. “That was it. Oh man, the things you would have done to him—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Wait!” Rose set her slice down and waved her index finger between them. “Back up. Who does Rey want to fuck?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey plucked her glass off of her night stand and took a hearty swig, then wiped her mouth with the back of her palm. “Ben Solo,” she replied factually. “I’d climb that man like a tree.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rose fixed her with an incredulous look. “Solo?” She sputtered. “That grad student in our english class with the piss-poor attitude?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “That’s the one,” Rey sighed dreamily. She’d taken one look at his full-lipped scowl and his stupid newsboy cap and decided that she would, in no uncertain terms, like to lick him. The first time he spoke to her, it was to deliver a scathing review of her essay on the existentialist movement — he’d called her thesis “derivative and half-baked” — and she nearly came on the spot. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You need help,” Rose chirped. “And —” Rey whined when she swiped her empty glass out of her hand, “—I’m cutting you off.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> But by that point, it was already too late. Her vodka-addled brain had already descended down the path of thinking about the multitude of things she’d like to do to Ben Solo, some of which, she speculated, names didn’t even exist for yet. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey hummed contemplatively. “I know what I need.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Therapy?” Finn quipped.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She tossed him a look. “A diary.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rose and Finn stared blankly at Rey as she paced to the center of the room and planted her palms flat on her hips. “A diary,” she repeated. “To cure my horniness.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> The three of them jumped at the sudden rap on the door, and for a single, terrible moment, she wondered if Ben Solo himself had come to her dorm room to reprimand her in that unfathomably sexy baritone of his. He’d look her up and down with his flinty gaze and say something like, “If you’re quite finished articulating the many ways you’d like to accost me, I’d prefer that you quieted down.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> But when Rose wrenched open the door, it was just the RA asking them to turn down the playlist of Beyonce’s greatest hits they’d been blasting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Sorry,” Rose mumbled. She shut the door and adjusted the volume button on the speaker. “What were you rambling on about?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “No one keeps diaries anymore,” Finn said. “Just make a private Twitter account, or something.” He paused, scrutinizing her expression, which had suddenly grown disturbingly thoughtful. “You do realize I was <em>joking</em>, right-”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I don’t know,” Rey murmured, stroking her chin. “I kind of like it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Thus was the origin story of @ReysHornyDiary, a dirty ode to Ben Solo and all of the naughty, naughty things she wanted to do to him. Rey knew next to nothing about Twitter — her social media profiles were, as a general rule, sparse and impersonal — but Rose had showed her how to set up the account so that she and Finn could follow it, and soon after, Rey was well on her way to composing her first tweet: </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s2">12:47 AM</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s2">December 19, 2019</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">@ReysHornyDiary</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">i want ben solo to collapse on my chest</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey surveyed her handiwork and clicked send, feeling satisfied with her accomplishment. “I feel better already.” She flipping her phone screen around, beaming. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You’ve lost your mind,” Finn groaned.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p3"><br/>The Twitter account turned out to be one of the only bright spots of Rey’s lonely winter break. She’d spent it on campus, being that she didn’t actually have anywhere else to go. It would be far too expensive to fly home to England, and it wasn’t as though anyone was exactly waiting on her there. Both Finn and Rose had graciously invited her to join them on the joint ski trip they’d planned, but Rey preferred to spend the holidays in quiet solitude, as had become something of a sad sort of tradition for her.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She was lying on her bed when she had the idea to tweet again. She knew that it would give Finn and Rose a laugh, as they had both turned on notifications for the account. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s2">3:46 PM</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s2">December 27, 2019</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">@ReysHornyDiary</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">ben solo, please step on my throat</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">They'd gotten a kick out of it, as she’d expected. Finn had called her a “shameless trout” in their group chat, which was somehow both insulting and charming, as insults went. He'd also included a creative string of phallic emojis.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> It became a sort of challenge, after that, to top the vulgarity of the prior tweet with something even more absurd. She tweeted on the elliptical, in the shower, at the dining commons. Some ideas even came to her in dreams — she’d started keeping a notepad next to her bed for the express purpose of documenting her late-night epiphanies.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Her next idea came to her a day later, when she was walking back from the grocery store. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s2">1:12 PM</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s2">December 28, 2019</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">@ReysHornyDiary</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">ben solo could shatter my kneecaps and I’d say thank you</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> It only took five minutes for Rey’s phone rang with an incoming call from Rose. Rey dropped her groceries onto her desk and hastily pressed accept. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Hello?” She chirped innocently. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You’re out of your mind, Niima,” Rose replied in lieu of a greeting. “What if he <em>sees</em> this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey snorted, leaning over to tear open a box of Lucky Charms. She popped a handful in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully before replying. “Can you imagine <em>Ben Solo </em>knowing how to use Twitter?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rose paused. “No,” she conceded, after a moment of contemplation. “I really can’t.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “And anyway, it’s not like I actually <em>mean</em> it. I’m mostly just taking the piss out of you and Finn. Did you like the kneecaps one, by the way?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I’d give it a seven for creativity, but the one asking him to tie your fingers in a square knot holds a special place in my heart.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “A classic,” Rey agreed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> They spent the rest of the phone call trading the details of their respective winter breaks, which, for Rey, had mostly consisted of sitting around and watching rom-coms in her underwear. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Marginally less depressing than it sounds,” Rey added optimistically.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You should do something fun tonight,” Rose suggested. “Streak through the quad.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “On what planet does getting frostbite on my ass count as fun?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> The line crackled with Rose’s laughter. “Who knows? Maybe you’d even run into <em>Solo—</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey nearly choked on a marshmallow. “Goodbye, Rose,” she grumbled, ending the call. Despite her teasing, their conversation had only made her miss both Rose and Finn even more than she had before. Rey resolved to heed Rose’s advice — Not the streaking, of course, but one could only take so many days of wallowing before it began to lose its appeal. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “What on earth do people do for <em>fun</em>?” Rey muttered to herself.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">Noir Cinema, an aptly-named indie theater a few blocks from campus, was playing <em>It’s a Wonderful Life </em>to a room of empty seats and dusty old popcorn kernels. Rey didn’t mind, though. It meant that she had more room to stretch her legs and scarf down her candy with a sort of vigor that would be considered impolite in front of an audience.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She was doing exactly that when she heard the door swing open around ten minutes in. A broad-shouldered silhouette lingered in the buttery light of the open door, casting a long shadow over the screen. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey glanced over, annoyed. “Are you going to sit?” She snapped.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She could tell that the latecomer appeared to be a man. He looked oddly fitting, backlit against the milky light of grainy film, with an antiquated sort of handsomeness to his sharp, somewhat oversized features. He shouldered into the dark room and let the door swish shut behind him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey tilted her head, inspecting him with narrowed eyes as she reached for a handful of M&amp;Ms. He looked familiar, though her view was too obscured to place him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> That was, until he began making his way up the stairs and directly toward her seat. He paced toward her in wide, competent strides, his eyes fixed onto her with laser focus. She froze, her hand poised halfway to her mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You’re Rey Niima,” Ben Solo said. His tone was dry and boredly accusatory, like a cat toying with a ball of yarn. “Aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Slowly, Rey lowered her hand. She wished she’d had half a mind to wear something marginally more sexy than the sweatpants and hoodie she’d settled on before running out the door. His dark gaze flicked up and down her body in a swift, impassive inspection. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Um,” Rey sputtered. “Yes?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Ben’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You were in my english class last semester.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Huh,” Rey replied thoughtfully. “You noticed?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “What’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I don’t think you said two words to me all semester. Or anyone, for that matter.” She gestured at the movie with a vague flick of her hand. “Are you going to stand there the whole time? You’re blocking James Stewart.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Ben popped his mouth open and then snapped it shut just as promptly. To her chagrin, he then dropped into the seat directly to her left. Her heart thrummed in her chest when his broad, warm bicep nearly brushed hers as he settled into the recliner. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You’re going to sit <em>here</em>?” Rey squeaked, glancing around at the empty theater. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Problem?” Ben replied challengingly, one dark brow edged into his hairline. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “No.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Rey turned back to the screen, but she could feel him watching her in her periphery. His eyes were still narrowed, his lips quirked into a cold little pout. That mouth really was obscenely lush, insultingly kissable. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Rey heaved a sigh of concession. “What are you looking at?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I thought you’d be glad to see me,” Ben murmured. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Dread pulsed through Rey as she watched his pout melt into a sneer. “Considering the things you’ve been saying.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Her brain arrived to the horrifying conclusion before her mouth had the chance to catch up, resulting in a few moments of useless stuttering before she managed to articulate a single, succinct, “<em>What?</em>” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Don’t play coy,” Ben replied, his tone harsh and reprimanding and, even now, dreadfully arousing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> For a moment, Rey was absolutely certain that she was about to be sick. “I’m afraid I don’t follow,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Slowly, he reached into his pocket. Rey knew what was about to happen, but nothing could have prepared her for the horror she felt when he typed something into his phone and then, a moment later, flipped his screen around to face her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> There, illuminated through the darkness like a beacon, was a tweet she’d written asking Ben to spit in her face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Oh my God,” Rey muttered, pulling her hand over her mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “This ring a bell? This - this <em>bit</em>,” he sputtered. “This thing that you’ve been doing that’s either sexual, or violent.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I like to think of it as a little of column A, a little of column B,” Rey mumbled. Her voice sounded faraway over the pulse of blood in her ears. “I thought it was private-”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Quite public, in fact. It’s been making the rounds on campus.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Oh my God,” Rey repeated. It was more of a gurgle, really. Ben’s eyes widened a little as he leaned forward, peering at her face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Are you—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> And then she really did get sick.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> All over his sexy leather jacket.</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p3">“I’m sorry,” Rey said for approximately the tenth time in the span of five minutes. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “It’s fine,” Ben replied through gritted teeth. His was standing behind the theater with his jacket pinched between his forefinger and thumb as though it was a bag of garbage. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “It’s freezing out. Here, wear my coat—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I’m not wearing your coat, Rey,” Ben replied, tossing her a flat look. He had a fair point. Those broad shoulders would probably tear her poor leather bomber in half. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She blew out a slow breath and watched it vaporize in the frigid air. “Come back to my place—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> He narrowed his eyes speculatively.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “—so that I can wash your jacket for you,” Rey finished, rolling her eyes. “I’ll keep my hands to myself. My dorm is right around the corner.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She assumed that Ben, being a graduate student, probably lived in one of the posh brownstones on the south side, which was a far longer walk. “You’re all the way on Exegol Street, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “It’s fine,” Ben gritted. He glanced around, as though scanning the street for witnesses. Was the concept of being seen with her really <em>that</em> unbearable? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey spun towards him, a twinge of anger rising in her. “It was just a joke<em>, </em>you know,” she spat. “It’s not like I was being serious.” That last part was debatable, but she tipped her chin forward defiantly to punctuate her point. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Is that so?” Ben drawled disbelievingly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I was …” her train of thought derailed under the force of his undivided attention. “Just having some weird fun.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Oh, you’re weird alright. You - you deeply weird, small, <em>small</em> thing,” Ben hissed, those dark eyes churning with dangerous heat. </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2"> “You- you!” Rey sputtered, pushing the heels of her palms against his toned chest. </span>The barb hit a particularly sore spot, as she was sensitive about both her height and her weirdness. “I’m not <em>small</em>, you're just obscenely tall!”</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Obscenely tall?” He repeated, his mouth twitching. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey ignored that. “The account was an inside joke between my <em>friends</em> and I. You might have some, if you were actually nice to people.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> He took a step closer, releasing a small huff through his half-parted lips. Rey distantly registered her shame at the instinctual way her body arched closer to him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His pupils were blown wide, inky-black against the reflection of a streetlamp.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You know exactly what it means,” Rey sniffed. Her confidence waned when he took another step closer, backing her against the brick wall of the theater. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Might be harder to make friends now that half of the student body knows about your depraved sexual fantasies about me,” he growled, bowing his head so that they were eye-level. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “They’re not depraved.” Rey’s vision narrowed onto his mouth as he swiped his tongue across his lower lip. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Oh?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She froze as he brought one of his broad palms to her waist, the other braced against the wall. She was closed in between the wall and his warm chest, which smelled of laundry detergent and spicy cologne. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> It was only when Ben dropped his soiled jacket to the ground that she remembered that her breath must have smelled like hell. She fumbled in her pocket and withdrew a stick of gum, popping it into her mouth as she watched him, his expression taut and unreadable.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s impolite to invade someone’s personal space?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Ben threw his head back and guffawed. His neck was a creamy, smooth strip of skin in the light of the pale moon. She wanted to taste it. “You’re lecturing <em>me </em>about politeness?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> His fingers splayed out over the jutting point of her hipbone, his thumb drifting closer to her pelvis. Rey’s breath hitched and Ben smirked in a self-satisfied way. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “What are you doing?” She sputtered. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Ben tilted his head. “What was it you said you wanted me to do to you?” He bowed his head, pressing his lips lightly to the hinge of her jaw. The gesture might have seemed tender, sweet, even, but then he slipped his hand in the elastic waistband of her sweatpants and the devilish look in his eyes was anything but. “Shove my fingers inside your wet…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey’s teeth ground together when he swirled the brushed the pad of his thumb over her damp core. “I don’t recall,” she gritted petulantly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Sure you do,” he replied, slipping his index finger under the lace panties in one sure motion. She whined as he swirled teasingly over the dampening bud of her sex and then withdrew, drifting back and forth over her labia. When he pulled his face back to look at her, the cosmic force of his attention on her was so overwhelming she felt breathless. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You said you wanted me to shove my fingers inside your wet pussy, didn’t you?” He growled, his lip pulled back into a snarl.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> And then Ben did exactly that, and everything went silent. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> His hand was rough, calloused, the texture almost punishing against the slick wetness of her folds. He plunged his finger in until his knuckle hit the tangled patch of her pubes and then withdrew just as promptly, the wet squelch deafening in the thick silence that had settled between them. They faced one another in mirrored expressions of disbelief, breathing in hot, gasping little puffs, their gazes glassy and unfocused.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “You’re already dripping. Do you like that, Rey?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She nodded. Her grasp of the English language had suddenly evaded her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> He slipped his finger back in and began moving his thumb over her clit in a lazy, circular motion. She rocked into him and whined, her head falling back against the brick wall. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Would you like another finger?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Yes,” Rey breathed. “Please.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> With the heel of his hand hard against her sensitive clit, Ben shoved another finger inside of her. His big fingers were so broad, so <em>strong</em>, that they almost felt like a cock. Rey’s vision blurred at the edges, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> When he spoke, his low, scratchy voice was right over her ear, reverberating through her like a lightning strike. “You meant what you said, didn’t you?” Ben grumbled. “You meant every filthy word.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “I…” Rey gasped, bucking her hips wildly against his hand. Her orgasm loomed closer, a tightening coil in her cunt. She resisted, desperate to savor the bliss she was experiencing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Say it,” Ben demanded, his voice as sharp as a whip’s crack. When she didn’t respond edged a third finger into her cunt. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “<em>Fuck!</em>” Rey cried. “I meant it. I meant it,” she stuttered. Her tears streaked warm trails down her face. Ben leaned forward and swiped his tongue over the apple of her wet cheek as lazily as though he were tasting a popsicle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Good girl,” he murmured. “Look at me, Rey.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey felt him bring his free hand under her shirt, hesitating when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. She blinked her eyes open as his forefinger and thumb tweaked the hardened peak of her nipple. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Ben was watching her with a strange sort of reverence, his brows drawn low over his darkened gaze. “I want you to look at me while you come,” he said.He grunted as he cupped at her bare breast in his warm palm, his nostrils flaring. “<em>Fuck</em>. You’re so fucking pretty.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey didn’t even have time to consider that last statement as he increased the pace of his movements, his fingers sliding in and out of her dripping cunt with renewed fervor. “So fucking <em>pretty</em>, looking at me like that,” he panted. “I bet you’d look even prettier with my cock in you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She couldn’t even be bothered to care about the public location, couldn’t be bothered to care about <em>anything, </em>really. Rey cried out his name like a filthy promise, rolling her sweaty hips forward against his hand as her orgasm rocked through her in waves of pulsating, white-hot intensity. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Rey sucked in lungfuls of cold air through her teeth, suddenly embarrassed as she eased out of her orgasm. Rational thought dripped back into her consciousness like sand through a sieve. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Well,” she murmured after a long moment. She backed her ass up against the wall for support, boneless with pleasure. “That was…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> Ben was watching her with a little quirk in his brow, as though inspecting something vaguely amusing. Then, in an agonizingly slow pace, he lifted his fingers to his pillowy lips and sucked. His eye contact was unwavering as he rolled his wet fingers over his tongue, lapping up her juices with precise focus. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> He withdrew his fingers with a slick pop and then leaned down and delicately plucked his jacket off of the ground. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> “Goodnight, Rey,” he drawled, as smooth as warm honey. He tossed one last dark look over his shoulder, and then he was gone as swiftly as he’d arrived, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined the interaction entirely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> She stared after him long after he left, her cunt damp and wringing with the phantom sensation of his deft fingers. And then she drew her phone out of her pocket and, with shaking hands, typed a text to Finn and Rose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"> <em> You’re not going to fucking believe this.</em> </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I almost can’t believe this even exists, but … you’re welcome? Or, I’m sorry? It’s one of the two. Perhaps both simultaneously.</p><p>This is, of course, inspired by Adam’s hilarious appearance on John Oliver, which you can watch <a>here</a>. The idea for this fic came to me and promptly infected my brain with its rot until I excised it from my system. </p><p>If you liked this, drop me a comment or a kudos? They make my day. Also, consider checking out my Reylo office rom-com WIP, <a>Office Politics</a>.</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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